


Hide & Seek

by arabmorgan



Series: Kink Meme Fills [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 10:42:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8140988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arabmorgan/pseuds/arabmorgan
Summary: It's difficult for Tony to stay bored when Loki is around, even if Nick Fury is standing less than ten feet away. Maybe especially if Nick Fury is standing less than ten feet away.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Because I have, apparently, jumped on the frostironkink train, and I have few regrets. It's like writing all that Dog Days smut unleashed the smut writer in me. (In fact, I'm almost considering starting a series in which to dump potential future fills. Hm.)
> 
> A fill for [this prompt](http://frostironkink.tumblr.com/post/148494069204/prompt-tonys-at-an-avengers-meeting-and-loki):
>
>> Tony’s at an avengers meeting and Loki appears (cloaked by some invisibility illusion) and only Tony can see him. He starts sucking Tony off under the table, and Tony has to stay silent unless he wants to explain himself. Points if he has a really hard time keeping in his moans or not showing pleasure.

Honestly, the moment the words “so you’d all better listen up” came out of Nick Fury’s mouth, that was it for Tony.

He’d lived long enough to know that those six little words would be enough for Fury to keep them in their seats for an hour or more, flashing his completely unaesthetic, Arial-font slides as he nattered his way through one of those thankfully-rare pre-mission briefings.

He snuck a peek round the table at the rest of the team, only to find them all listening intently to Fury’s monologue like the guy’s words were air, their expressions solemn. Hell, Steve was even taking _notes_.

Clint did tilt his head ever so slightly and shoot him a wink though, so he supposed he wasn’t the only one bored out of his mind, at least.

He _was_ the only one not making any effort to hide it though, but there was only so much whistling and finger-tapping he could do until the boredom returned.

And then came the touch on his fabric-covered calf.

Tony jerked, his butt actually lifting an inch off his seat before slamming back down. Rolling his chair back, his jaw dropped to see a smirking, green-eyed Norse god kneeling beneath the table, shoulders hunched in what must have been a distinctly uncomfortable position.

“What the _hell_ –” he started, before realising that there were a lot more than a single pair of eyes fixed on him at the moment.

Steve looked concerned. “What is it?” The blonde ducked his head down before Tony could say another word, and he froze, ready for Cap to leap to his feet and yell that Loki was under the table. Which would have been hilariously ludicrous, under any other circumstances.

Except Steve’s gaze swept right past Loki like he was, well, _invisible_. Figured. The god’s grin widened, one of his fingers crooking in a come-hither gesture that was decidedly out of place in a SHIELD meeting room.

Slowly, Tony rolled his chair back into place, trying not to break into a sweat through sheer force of will as he felt nimble fingers undoing the button of his pants.

 “Er.” He coughed, fairly certain that he had a neon sign on top of his head shrieking _compromised_ and wondering how the hell no one else could see it. “Sorry, false alarm. Thought I felt a squirrel brush past my leg.”

“A _squirrel_ ,” Fury repeated slowly, and then, to Tony’s immense relief, clearly decided that Stark was too raving mad to bother with and returned to his briefing.

His zipper was being pulled down now – notch by notch, ever so slowly, so that not a single sound could be heard even in the enclosed room. It was amazing how fast his arousal had struck, and he could quite clearly feel every bump of the zipper coming undone against his swelling erection.

As a cool hand reached into his boxers to draw his cock out, Tony gave an inadvertent grunt and immediately tried to cover it up as a noise of acknowledgement. He fixed his eyes on Fury and gave a slight nod of his head, ignoring the curious tilt of Bruce’s head in the corner of his vision.

He was paying attention. Why wouldn’t he? Riveting speeches and all that.

A long stripe was licked up the underside of his erection, before something warm and wet closed around the head of his cock, and it was all he could do not to rise up out of his chair. Somehow, not being able to see exactly _what_ Loki was getting up to under the table was turning him on more than he would’ve thought possible.

He could almost see Loki’s face before him, eyes huge and upturned to gloat over Tony’s reaction, an incorrigible smirk on his stretched lips. And then his gaze would lower and his head would angle downwards as his mouth slid down, down, until he had swallowed Tony whole.

Usually, this was when he would get a good grip on the god’s thick locks, holding Loki in place as he thrust hard into that slick throat. The faster he thrust, the harder his cock bumped the back of Loki’s throat, the louder the god would moan, green eyes gently closed with enjoyment.

This time, he kept his hands firmly on the table, gradually unclenching them when he realised how hard they were fisted. _Breathe_ , he told himself, feeling the sudden and inappropriate urge to start panting.

Loki’s rhythm was infuriatingly casual, his teeth scraping along Tony’s hot shaft with starbursts of pleasure-pain. And then every trace of warmth suddenly disappeared, and his cock was left bobbing stiffly, the liberal coating of saliva leaving him chilly in the open.

He could still feel Loki’s hands on his thighs, could imagine that head of black hair pulling back, expression wickedly nonchalant as he watched Tony twitch helplessly before his eyes.

He was half-tempted to reach under the table and flip Loki the finger, except he didn’t want the god to get all huffy and disappear back to wherever he’d come from, leaving him like _this_.

The seconds ticked by. He could literally feel beads of sweat beginning to pop up on his forehead, no matter how much he tried to imagine that he was rolling in the snow. It didn’t help that Loki’s hands were kneading gently at his thigh, fingers inching upwards to his waiting hard-on, but never quite reaching.

“ _Please_.” The word escaped him in a breathless gasp, and once again, every head in the room swivelled to face him. “ _Please_ can we get this over with? I’m bored out of my mind.”

He gave a shaky smirk, pointedly ignored Natasha’s sharply suspicious stare, and repressed a full-body quiver when Loki’s mouth made its sudden triumphant return.

Apparently, parents the world over knew exactly what they were talking about when it came to ‘the magic word’.

Loki’s rhythm was more regular now, his movements slightly restricted lest he smack his head on the bottom of the table, but just the _idea_ of coming in the god’s mouth in a room full of oblivious Avengers (not to mention _Nick Fury_ ) was enough to make Tony’s balls tighten.

His face felt unbearably hot with how hard he was holding back, and he sincerely hoped his eyes didn’t look like they were popping out of his head, because that was exactly what it felt like they were close to doing. He could hardly _breathe_ right – every exhalation was shaky and uneven, rattling right through his chest no matter how quiet he tried to be.

And still Loki continued, one hand coming up to fondle firmly at his balls as the god swallowed him to the root, and then continued to swallow, his throat constricting and urging almost forcefully around his straining cock.

Another squeeze, and Tony gave up. He came with a loud, guttural groan that sent him slumping forward onto the table.

Natasha was the first to leap to her feet with a sharp exclamation of, “Tony!” And then she was striding around the table with Steve close behind. Beside Tony, Clint was standing as well, a hand set hesitantly on his shaking shoulder as if waiting for an order from Fury.

Loki was still swallowing, letting Tony slide slowly and cleanly out of his mouth. By the time everyone was clustered around the panting inventor, he was tucked neatly back into his pants, zipper up and button done. As good as new.

“…might be his heart,” he heard someone say distantly, as he came back to himself.

“Guys,” he tried to say, pushing himself upright and looking up to see the most shocked visage of Nick Fury he had ever seen in his life. And would probably ever see.

“What happened, Stark?” The Director looked furious, but there was an underlying smidgen of concern that made Tony grin.

“I’m totally fine!” he insisted. “Just a bit of, uh, heartburn, you know? Yeah, you know how it goes, right? I mean, look at me, what heart problems?” He stood up, spreading his arms, hoping there weren’t any tell-tale damp spots on his pants.

“You were _shaking_ even before that. Don’t think I didn’t notice.” Natasha sounded _pissed_.

“We’re going back to the Tower for now,” Steve said decisively, taking hold of Tony’s arm in a manner that was almost protective, as if expecting Fury to protest. “We’ll be ready tomorrow as ordered, Director.”

“But –” Tony started to protest, and then he swallowed the _I’m fine_ that had almost slipped out of his mouth. Was he really going to protest that a Fury briefing had been cut short? No sir, he was not.

Especially not if Loki was going to be waiting for him back in his bed, all ready for round two.


End file.
